When It All Comes Out
by Sara Jo Wolfe
Summary: We are up to the third chapter because many of you asked me to continue! Aya's angst and the effect it has on Weiß crew. Scene between him and Youji in the first chapter and emphasis on Aya and Omi in the second and third chapter. You will like, ne?
1. Default Chapter

Date Written: 1-6-2002  
Author: Sara Jo Wolfe (AKA Slr_bug and Kioshi)  
Author's Notes: This was created for a friend of mine who wanted to see a scene between Youji and Aya. And, of course, it had to have that angsty tension in it that Aya likes to show off all the time. Depending on how you interpret it it *does* have yaoi, but it's unintentional. The focus is on their close relationship and Aya's pain. This may be extended, but I'm not sure yet. All (constructive) reviews are much appreciated.  
  
******  
  
Youji walked lazily into the morning lit kitchen. A soft golden glow stretched long shadows across the cream colored room. He stood motionless in the doorway afraid any movement would destroy the scene before him. Aya stood with his back to him as he prepared food at the stove. Youji smiled as he watched Aya - his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and an apron tied loosely around his waist - working quietly. The kitchen possessed a greater warmth than the radiant sun and the heat created by the stove. As the fine featured man watched in silent awe he felt a sense of belonging; as if this very scene were a unique, delicate painting that only he could possess.  
  
The smell of sweet flowers and bitter coffee mingled together gently in the air. The wooden table, sitting before the kitchen's eastern window, held a classic morning's breakfast. Large stacks of pancakes, hash browns, eggs, milk . . . a traditional American breakfast . . . and a treat for Weiss. Youji couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise.  
  
"Feeling warm and fuzzy today, eh," Youji asked with his flirty smile planted firmly on his face.p  
  
Aya stood straight for a moment before he looked over his right shoulder at Youji. A cold stare bore its way through the thick warmth of the room. Aya had intended his glare to be harmful but Youji's smile remained unharmed.  
  
"It smells wonderful in here," Youji commented again.  
  
"Well," Aya countered with venom, "It's nice of you to join the day."  
  
"I was being serious."  
  
Youji stretched his long arms above his head and yawned deeply. His glasses sat lazily upon his head and he carefully lowered them onto his nose.  
  
"It's not that bright in here," Aya glared.  
  
"I can't help it, Aya. You're just exceedingly radiant today."  
  
He casually strode over to his chair at the table and sat down. The warmth of the sun playing wildly on his wavy hair.  
  
"Where's Omi and Ken?"  
  
Aya resumed his actions at the stove. His red hair falling into his face and hazardously ignored the demands of the occasional swipe of his hand. It appeared that it was a stronger red color than normal. Even his skin breathed life that it normally lacked.  
  
"They went on a walk since you were asleep."  
  
Youji, still smiling, gained an even larger grin.  
  
"They're so kind to allow me my beauty sleep."  
  
Aya quietly scoffed in reply.  
  
"They'll be back soon," Aya said.  
  
He continued to work tediously at the stove. His hand clenching a yellow sponge tightly scrubbing what was left of the less he made. The room fell silent to the harsh sound of the heavy scraping upon the counter top. His forearm began to tighten so much that Youji could easily see each muscle group. Their borders easily defined by the sun's shadow that poured into the room.  
  
"She's going to be all right, Aya."  
  
Aya's head quickly turned to meet Youji's eyes in a stare. He stopped cleaning the counter, now so clean it reflected his frozen stare, and held Youji tightly in his eyes.  
  
"We're going to save her before they do any harm."  
  
Youji smiled brightly, albeit sincerely, and rose from his chair. Aya had already lowered his gaze to the gold shine of the tile before him. His mind sifted through thoughts that had been sorted through once right after the accident. The room held a stiffness that neither had felt before. Something almost tangible. Aya's body seemed to lean into the counter as his mind wandered through a seemingly endless maze of thoughts. Youji cautiously walked over to Aya. His entire expression seemed generally droopy and sober. When he was close enough he placed his hand over Aya's.  
  
Aya looked up at Youji angrily. A single tear drifted down his cheek.  
  
"All I've ever done was try to forget the pain so I could get her back."  
  
Youji continued to hold his hand and Aya fell into Youji's arms. His entire body shook as the man wept the tears which were confined for so long. Painful tears that burned as they found their way to his cheeks.  
  
"Damn you," Aya growled.  
  
He continued to shake and didn't try to leave Youji's comforting grasp. He didn't want to hold it in anymore and he didn't want to face the pain alone either.  
  
They both stood there, embraced, knowing the others would be back soon; but Youji didn't care. Aya, feeling frighteningly alone, hadn't the strength to move to pull himself together.  
  
"Damn you, Youji. Damn you . . ."  
  
************  
  
TBC...??!! 


	2. When the Hero Fell

Author: Sara Jo Wolfe (AKA Kioshi, slr_bug)  
Anime: Weiss Kreuz  
Main Character: Aya  
  
Author's Notes: *coughs* Well, this part of the story came while I was writing a totally different story (currently - and pathetically - named; And Those Darts Man . . . They're Great). It's a bit short because I wasn't sure where to go with it, but I figured it was a start. Not only that but I've been busy so you'll have to forgive me there. *dodges any bricks nearing head* X_x;; One cannot be too careful . . . now, on to the main attraction.  
  
********************  
When the Hero Fell  
********************  
  
"Damn you, Youji. Damn you," Aya growled deep in his throat. The man's tears flowed so freely that he had no control over them at all. They were coming whether or not he wanted them to and it frustrated him to no end. He wanted to beat Youji for doing this to him, for making him feel weak, for making him feel like a fool, for being kind to him. He didn't want the empathy of others . . . least of all Youji. He never asked for Youji's concern or his comforting looks.  
  
"Just let go of me," he yelled as he pushed Youji violently away.  
  
"Gomen Aya-kun. I was just trying to hel -"  
  
"I don't need your help!"  
  
Aya embraced the counter trying to gather his balance and strength back. But when he tried to walk away he fell back into Youji's arms. His body tensed as he watched Omi and Ken walk into the kitchen. Both of them stopped in the doorway. Ken stared with his mouth gaping open, but Omi elbowed him before Aya saw Ken's face. Aya quickly turned his face from theirs. He clung to Youji for balance as he stood himself up again, trying to look normal. Youji tried to sport a calm grin, but it faultered. He couldn't act as if everything were normal, even if Aya would want him to try. Besides that fact, it was too late because they already knew something was wrong.  
  
Omi ran and put his hand on Aya's shoulder. His young naive face bent down in worry. Though it didn't always seem like it, Omi had long looked up to Aya and his control over any situation; and seeing him like this worried the youngest Weiss member.  
  
"Aya-kun . . .," he said in his soft, child-like voice, "are you ok?"  
  
The red-haired man silently cleared his throat.  
  
"I'm fine. Youji just scared the crap out of me."  
  
"You're lying," Ken stated bluntly, "What's really wrong? Let us help."  
  
"I don't need your pathetic help." He paused briefly, "In fact, I don't know why I'm still here. I can take care of my own problems myself!"  
  
Aya pushed himself from Youji's grasp once again, wiped his eyes, and stormed passed Omi toward the door. Everyone stared at him not knowing what to say or what to do. Omi watched his hero deteriorate before his eyes. He watched as he ran away from his problems and leave them in the dust he kicked up in their face.  
  
"A-yan," Omi said quietly.  
  
His hero stopped, door in hand, almost completely out the door. He looked at the boy . . . his normal smile far from his face. The sparkle in his eye nonexistant.  
  
"Please . . . don't leave."  
  
The man stood still, but for only a minute, before he slammed the kitchen door behind him; leaving two angry men and one confused adoring fan.   
  
Omi, now standing as if he were a defeated child, said nothing as he ran from the room. The tall blonde looked at Ken and nodded his consent before he ran after Omi, hoping the boy wouldn't do anything stupid before he found him. Ken quickly zipped up his leather jacket and ran out the door in pursuit of Aya.   
  
The kitchen sat empty and silent. The warm American meal lay guiltily beneath the golden sun. It, in all of its perfection, lay warm and happily in the cozy room. It lay . . . untouched - and seemingly unnoticed - by the florists.  
  
*****************  
  
TBC~ We'll see how long it takes to get the next part up...I'm sorry it was kind of short and, well I suppose there was a lot that happened here. It just doesn't seem like it, ne?! Gomen nasai!!!! I'm working on the next part. Arigato for your patience! 


	3. Omi's Crisis

A gentle fall breeze drifted through the quiet streets carrying with it any stray leaves that once laid upon the ground. Though the wind was calm and seemed quite serene from within the house it held a bitter chill. It aimlessly visited dark corners and sunlit benches alike. The soft golden rays dulled the wind's chilly edge so that, when it caressed the surface of warm skin, it gave someone a dull ache. An ache that was constantly there - for the wind never let up - and an ache that was much worse when it visited the shadows of the city life.  
Aya understood the wind.   
The rustle of leaves lulled him into a deep trance. He meandered the city on foot with his eyes fixed on no certain point before him. There's was no destination, but where ever it was he was going it wasn't any place beneath the sun. He wasn't going to go before its warm, comforting rays. The wind was just fine. In fact, Aya had a certain admiration for the wind. It flowed as it wished and let nothing disturb it from its goal.  
He walked slowly down the sidewalk. Despite the wind's bitter nip he had his sleek black jacket wide open. His red hair was wildly alive as the wind played games within it. He wore no gloves and the scarf around his neck hung loosely on his chest. It swung gently from side to side as he wandered the streets. The wind didn't bother him at all and he began to wonder why he had even bothered to grab his jacket and scarf on his out of the house. He had discarded his white apron on the chair beside the door and quickly grabbed his things from the coat hanger. It was just like Aya to conceitedly assume that Omi would pick up his apron for him.   
The tall man stopped dead on the sidewalk, his eyes staring coldly before him. A cold gust of wind blew past his face and blew hard and long. It got so cold that a small tear drop cascaded from the corner of his eye to the cement below. He remembered, then, exactly why he was out here . . . exactly what he was avoiding.  
"She's going to be all right. We'll save her . . ."   
"You're lying. What's wrong? Let us help you . . ."   
"A-yan, don't leave . . ."   
Aya lowered his head. It was true that they sincerely wanted to help him, but he couldn't let them. It was weak. He would be weak to allow such a thing to happen. Indeed, he had a sudden meeting with weakness earlier but he was sure that it was a fluke. It had never happened before to him . . . even if it had he would never let on to such a development. However, he knew he had done wrong by Omi. He would hurt Ken or Youji - if the need to do so ever arose - but he could never hurt Omi. Yet, he had just hurt him. Perhaps he hadn't meant to hurt him, but that was just an easy excuse.  
His eyes looked up and he gazed over his right shoulder as a small girl walked past him. She stopped briefly before him and smiled.  
"Ohayo, Aya-kun! How are the flowers today?"  
He quickly bowed his head at the girl. She blushed a little beneath her fluffy purple scarf that she wore around the mouth.  
"Is Omi working today?"  
"Hai."  
The little girl's eyes began to sparkle as she nodded.  
"Arigato, Aya-kun!"  
His eyes followed her as she walked, hurriedly, away from him. Slowly he wrapped the scarf around his neck and partially zipped and buttoned his jacket. He turned completely around and headed back toward the flower shop.  
  
*******  
Gentle sobs echoed throughout the Weiá house. They vibrated down the halls and bounced softly off of the walls. Each sob was muffled and different from the last sob. Youji's voice mingled serenely into the playful echoes. His low and confident voice coaxing the sobs away into whimpers. The sound of the heater adding a silent roar to the cacophony of voices now engulfing the entire house.   
"I can't take it anymore, Youji-kun," Omi said, his words getting muffled as he talked into his beadspread, "I can't let his coldness roll off my back anymore."  
Youji watched Omi's back heave as he held back the remaining cries. Cries that he wanted to scream out. But the screams earlier had thrown him into a crying rage that he could barely control. Youji had to restrain him with a tight hug to keep him from hurting himself. Now, the tall blonde softly caressed Omi's back. Smoothing out the jagged anger that he held inside.  
"He's going through a lot right now," Youji stated gently, "I'm not making excuses for him, but everyone has problems and he doesn't deal with pain very well." He continued to slowly massage the muscles in Omi's back which were growing tight once again. "We have to help him through this rough time. As much of a damn pain he can be he still needs us."  
Omi inhaled a deep breath and held it. His small hands clutched the bedspread into his fists. Youji looked at the boy before him.  
"He really needs you right now, Omi-kun."  
Youji watched as a deep sigh escaped from Omi's mouth and his hands relaxed.   
"I'll help him get through this. I'll do anything to help him."  
The boy looked up at Youji - his eyes pleading for comfort - as curled up into a ball. He lay there on his side and slowly placed his head in Youji's lap. The well-dressed man wiped away the tears from Omi's face and smiled.  
"It may not seem like it sometimes, but you are pretty damn strong, Omi-kun. You amaze me."   
***********  
"You stupid piece of scum!! Who the hell do you think you are just barging out of here as if we weren't there talking to you? Well?! You had damn well better start talking to me!"  
Ken glared at the red-haired man. His cheeks had grown to be redder than Aya's hair during his search for the man. His own black hair was wind blown, but Ken didn't take note of it at all. Instead his eyes were glowing red hot as he stared at Aya's emotionless face. His entire chest was heaving as he waited for the man to speak, but not even that mattered to him.  
"Well?! Aren't you going to say anything at all?"  
"Iie."  
Ken ran into Aya full force - catching him off guard - and threw him as hard as he could into the side of the house. He could hear the air being knocked out of the tall man's lungs as he did so. Aya was surprised, albeit that quickly passed, and his eyes grew angry at the man who had stolen his breath. The man who held him against the house tightly in his grip. The man who didn't know what fires he had started within him.  
"Shine!" 


End file.
